Eye of the Sun
by DevilKing091
Summary: Vaati is convinced something is wrong with Gerudo Valley. Oracles bring predictions of dark times for this world and others. He wants to do something as soon as possible. So why is the King of the Gerudo buying lattes in the United States?


**Hey there. Not much to say on this one, just read it. It's a huge experiment and I'm wondering if it's going to be good enough for this site. Well, I do hope you enjoy.**

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**Eye of the Sun**

A normal day in Ashton, with its diversity and culture, includes a lot of strange, unusual people. Comfortable with individuality and innovation, citizens in all forms of life could be found on the day-to-day bus. Style, despite its underlying sameness, could always be examined, and subtle differences could always be discovered and accepted. But sometimes, differences were too noticeable to completely ignore, and simple human curiosity overwhelms the laid-back beliefs of even the most easygoing man or woman. Interest is a part of human nature, and human behavior is always a large part of observation.

It was perhaps for this reason that no one noticed the man with the purple hair until he began to act abnormal. He appeared stressed on the bus to King Street, and when an inevitable partner came to join him on the hard plastic seats he withdrew into himself and said nothing. He was a very strange man even for this city, dressed as he was in a black greatcoat buttoned up to his throat. His size was even more unusual, for his slender legs barely touched the floor of the vehicle. But he was quiet, and didn't cause trouble for the bus-driver, a thirty-year veteran unused to conflict. It was the day before her free weekend, and she wasn't about to tolerate any nonsense. She pulled up to a smooth stop at Weiss Avenue, and the purple-haired man got up, seeming to be grateful for the chance to escape. He paid her quickly and left the bus without a word. She watched him go approvingly, thankful he hadn't caused any trouble, and curious as to his appearance. Then a fight broke out between the rude businessman and the fat slob at the back, and the bus driver was busy again. She forgot all about her mysterious passenger in the commotion that followed his departure.

Outside the bus, very few people paid any attention to him. They were used to weird and usual visitors to the city. He had no bag, no camera. He was an unusual tourist, if that was what he could be identified as. Those who paid better-than-average attention to the world watched him with curious eyes. He seemed to be watching the street signs carefully, though, for he periodically glanced up at them, then back down to the ground. He strolled down the street, up the hill, past nicer houses in better shape than the ones near the waterfront. Finally, he reached Forrest Street and turned down an alley between two old brick apartment buildings. Locals watched in sympathy, but didn't bother to catch up and explain the doom that lay before him.

Just as predicted, the purple-haired man barely made it halfway down the side-street before a tall, burly, intimidating youth wearing a bandanna around his neck bumped into him. "There a reason you're down here?" the guy growled.

"Yes, lad. I'm looking for a friend's apartment. Do you, possibly, know a girl by the name of . . . .?"

"I don't know no skank," snapped the violent-looking man. His breath stank of strong alcohol. "Why do you want her, fagboy?" He shoved the short man up against the wall.

All of a sudden, it seemed too cold in the alleyway, even for the middle of October. The man, named Aaron, pulled his bandanna off his throat and began to wipe his face. His victim's eyes were glowing. "I beg your pardon?" he asked quietly.

Aaron released him. "Sorry man," he muttered, and began to stumble away on shaky legs. A huge blast of wind pitched him forward and he fell, cutting his forehead against the concrete. Aaron whipped around. The purple-haired man was standing against the wall, hand outstretched. His eyes were wild and glowing red. Aaron turned to blubber. "Dude I'm so sorry please don't kill me!"

"Oh?" His eyes were redder than blood, and a wind began to blow around him, flapping the edges of his now-unbuttoned coat. Aaron caught sight of a purple shirt and black trousers, and a knife belted to his narrow waist. A _huge _knife. This wasn't turning out the way Aaron expected. "Beg for your pathetic life then." The man grinned, showing off his terrifyingly sharp canines. "If you dare, laddy, beg."

Aaron began to grovel, tears running down his face. "Oh please please please Mister . . . Mister . . . . uhhh . . . . ?"

"Vaati." The purple-haired man smirked. "My name is Vaati, and I am your master."

"Yes sir," croaked Aaron. "Just don't kill me."

"Well, I'm feeling merciful," said Vaati slowly. "So I suppose I can let you go." Aaron went limp with relief. "However, I think you should hand over your wallet."

Aaron stared up at Vaati, who grinned at him in a vicious sort of way. But Aaron was too pissed off to even notice the smile. "What?" he demanded, suddenly angry at this short stranger. "What the hell makes you think . . . .?"

"The fact that I'll kill you if you don't, laddy," said Vaati dismissively, and raised his hand sharply. Aaron flew into the air and landed on his back with a howl, feeling lines of fiery agony flash up and down his spine. "Now, shall I dash your head against the ground until you die, or will you hand over the money in your pocket? I'm sure a lad like you has plenty of it." His voice was frigid. "Give me your wallet, laddy. Please."

Aaron groaned and pulled out his battered wallet. Vaati plucked it from his trembling hand with quick, graceful fingers and tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you, saai," he said, and walked away nonchalantly, whistling a tune.

Aaron stumbled to his feet and down the alley in the opposite direction, scared out of his mind. That pint-sized monster lifted him into the air with no hands. How could something like this happen? This wasn't possible! And what was worse, the little creature had stolen his wallet!

He reached the bus station and waited for a bus with shaking hands and huge, pathetic tears streaming down his face, oblivious to the shocked stares of the other patrons. He was done with this crazy city. This was no place for him if a psychic-kinetic or whatever guy could throw him about. No place at all.

~:!:~

Vaati glanced around at the numbers on all the buildings. He couldn't seem to find 1002. All the other buildings were huge affairs of concrete and steel, defying gravity and God in their height and size. Vaati snorted. These buildings may have been a testament to the might of America, but they reeked of filth and age. His sensitive nose was in agony over all the disgusting chemicals and unnatural food scents. It was the nastiest place he'd ever been.

Finally, he found the worn concrete steps of building 1002. It was only three stories, a tiny brick building that seemed to be in much better shape than the buildings on either side. It had a welcoming look, and immediately, Vaati felt more at ease. Little breezes plucked at his coattails as he ascended the steps into the bright building's main hall. There were three people sitting at tables inside, giving it the look of a hotel rather than an apartment building. The hall was an expansive affair, with a wide staircase dominating the view from the door. Behind the staircase was a living room filled with tables and chairs rather than couches. Wide windows gave off most of the light that lit the room with a golden glow. An archway opposite the door looked like it led to a huge kitchen and dining room. It was certainly nicer than any apartment he had ever been in, probably converted from a large house. The apartments he was used to looked like military barracks. No one looked at him oddly as he passed by, and didn't even think to make comments. He calmly chose a table away from them and sat by the window, keeping an eye on the door. To pass the time, he watched the three people chatting over coffee. They sat at a table beside the archway into the kitchen. One was a good-looking man in a scuffed white cloth jacket, dark hair slicked back with something that shone. He laughed with his friends, a skinny boy and a dark-skinned woman, and then something made him pause. He glanced up at the staircase. "Hey Vi!"

Vaati snapped to attention. A second girl had come to sit at the table, a slender, nervous-looking young woman with lovely olive skin lightened by the weak Ashton sun. She clutched the strap of a shoulder-bag in her hand, and a book in the other. Her beautiful dark hair was pushed back in a loose ponytail.

"Hi Nick," she said in a sweet voice. "Have you seen Chase?"

"Sorry honey, no. Have you guys?" This was directed at his friends.

"Nope, sorry," said the dark woman.

"Nah me either," added the skinny boy, twisting his cap in his hands. "Sorry Vi."

"It's okay." She sighed delicately. "I guess he'll be here after class then."

"If I see him I'll tell you," said Nick, leaning back in his chair. "Usually he's in at two."

Vi smiled. "Thanks." She turned toward Vaati and the smile withered. All the color drained from her face, leaving her looking ill and scared. "Excuse me." She walked over to Vaati's table, oblivious to the three curious stares from her friends. She sat down at his table and put her bag on the third chair with shaking hands.

"Do I know you?" she asked quietly. "You look incredibly familiar."

Vaati smiled. "Hello, Princess."

Vi let out a shaky breath. "I knew it." She smoothed down her black collared shirt. "No one else I can ever remember seeing has hair like that." She eyed his long lavender locks. "Your name is Vaan. Or . . . or . . . Vaati?"

His smile widened. "I'm glad you remember me, my dear. It has been many years. Eight, if I'm not mistaken."

"You are mistaken," muttered the girl. "Time didn't change here. It's been fifteen."

His crimson eyes widened. "Well, I suppose that was a flaw in the plan of the gods," he said lightly.

"Why are you here, Vaati?" asked Vi nervously.

"To see you, my dear. Are you going to invite me in?"

She smiled hesitantly. "Uh, sure. Come on up."

Vi led him up the stairs to her apartment, still white and shocked. Her hands trembled so badly, it was an effort for her to even unlock the door. When she finally managed it, she let him in. He breezed past her into the apartment. The living room was pleasantly small, with a battered couch in the far corner, a cheap TV opposite it, a white coffee table between them, piled high with textbooks. The dark blue threadbare carpet was comfortable under his feet. An archway led to the cheery kitchen.

Vi gestured to the couch. "Uh, please, sit down," she stammered, avoiding his eyes. "I . . . uhh, can I get you coffee?"

"No, thank you, lass. I'm only here for a little while, until the portal opens again. But that should take awhile, so I am grateful for the rest." He sat down on the couch, and she sat beside him carefully. Strange, in here, he felt none of the painful vibrations of technology, even though she clearly owned a television set. Gone, too, were the chemicals and processed food smells. Apparently she preferred natural ways to keep things in order. Perhaps it was simply her aura, for she radiated tranquility like a pleasing smell. It was her gift, one for which he was thankful.

She darted a quick glance at his face. "Who's helping you?"

Vaati appeared surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Portals require a creator, and a partner. Even if one of them goes in you still need at least two people. My idea is that you helped create it, but who was the partner that drew the circles?"

The wind mage sighed. "My dear Vironna . . . ."

"Oh hell no." Vironna jumped to her feet, alight with sudden rage. "Oh, you're just _terrible. _Get out of here."

"Vironna, please."

"You came from _him_, didn't you?" she hissed.

"No, Vironna, I did not."

"Liar!"

"Vironna, calm down," he ordered. His crimson eyes were blazing. "I did _not _come here because he wanted me to. I came here because I wanted to see how you are. I cared very deeply for you when you were small. We were friends. Can you not be friendly towards me any longer?"

That drew all the fight out of her. Her head dropped; she sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'm sorry, Vaati."

"I wanted to find you all these years, and now that I have, I only wanted to say hello to a friend." He pointed at her hand. "Now, Vironna, does that mean what I think it means?"

She looked down, confused, and suddenly the light of knowledge dawned on her face. "Yes, I'm engaged," she said sheepishly. She stroked the sparkling diamond embedded in the thin gold band. "Chase and I met . . . about two years ago, in a college sign language class. We started seeing one another, and, well, we . . . yeah. We don't have much, but we've got each other."

The wind mage's eyes softened. "Congratulations, my dear."

"Thanks," she murmured, blushing again. "That means a lot coming from you, Vaati."

"Have you ever considered coming back home?" The question was posted lightly, casually, but it irritated Vironna to no end. She had the feeling the wind mage was trying to convince her to do something she did not want to. Pride and hatred prevented it.

"I have considered it," she said stiffly. "But I'm happy here."

"In all this?" He gestured around the room to the shabby, peeling blue wallpaper, the well-used couch, the battered television. "Vironna, my dear girl, I could house you, even for just a vacation, in a bedroom bigger than this whole apartment. You could have so much _more_, Vironna . . . ."

"I'm happy here," she replied stubbornly. "I have my home and it's good enough. I have the love of my life, and we're going to be married and maybe, eventually, have children. We're not going to stay here all our lives. For now I'm educating myself, and making life better for the both of us. I don't need a palace like yours. I have Chase and we'll have a bright future ahead of ourselves once we graduate, together. We'll do our best for one another."

Vaati sighed. "You are an unselfish soul, my dear Vironna. I must say, I am proud of the woman you have become."

Vironna blinked, and an uncertain smile spread across her face. "Thank you." She bowed her head a little, and when he saw her face next, she was beaming. "Thank you so much."

He smiled reassuringly. "Well, lass, I must go. I have things to attend to, and the portal is fully open and waiting inside my head. Now don't worry," he added, seeing the anxious look on her face, "I'll be back sometime. But for now, there are things I must do." He bent down and kissed her forehead. She flinched and turned crimson. "Farewell, Vironna," he said gently.

She blinked sudden tears out of her eyes. "Goodbye Vaati," she whispered.

And suddenly he was gone, leaving behind black sparks and a faint wind that smelled of lilac.

~:!:~

_Omens, portents. Vague shadows in the distance of a darkened field, before an altar of black stone, gold fire glittering in the numerous cracks in the ancient pillars. A fiery city falling to dust, men and women slaughtered in the streets._

_The shadow watches._

_The creatures arrive low to the ground, smelling the coppery blood, breaking down doors and seizing whole families, screaming, drawn into a mouth with teeth dripping red. Fire burns them, blinds them, and then the many-legged monsters turn away from the ruined town to rush down endless passages, chasing the black eagle flying above. Crystal orbs shatter against their leathery hides, making them scream with unearthly voices. And here is that fire again, clutched in the hands of small creatures who cackle and spin about in a dizzying display of agility. The monsters roar ever louder, and the sound is shrill enough to shatter the glass windows of the distant castle._

Inoma threw off the silk blindfold. She groped around, sobbing, screaming in her barely audible way, screaming for her king to come to her, to attend to her fears and her visions. That dream was the most terrifying glimpse of another world she had ever experienced, even worse than the Great War she prophesied between her people and the Goddess's Chosen. She screamed again and clawed and the door, slamming it with tiny fist, demanding to be heard.

Finally the door opened, and all the anger drained from Inoma's face, replaced by sorrow and pain. A redheaded man appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with alarm. He knelt before the Seer. "Inoma-kai, what is wrong?" he asked in a deep voice heavy with exhaustion. He lit a candle and sat down beside her. She twitched. He leaned in close and touched her shoulder. "Tell me."

She waved her arms, twisting her fingers in complicated shapes. The whole time she gestured, a hectic light shone in her black eyes. The man had never seen Inoma this terrified before. Whatever she experienced had to have been worse than anything, for her hands were shaking the whole time she signed. She can't speak to him, only use her hand shapes. The dark man silently thanked the gods she could not speak, for if she could, she would be shrieking loud enough to wake the whole building.

"Inoma, Inoma, please," he signed, a desperate look on his face. "Slower. I can't sign like you."

Inoma finally composed herself, and her wildly dancing hands slowed. The dream continued, communicated to him by the subtleties of her long, pale fingers. He watched with anxious horror as she signed the final words, and at last she was silent. Her black eyes watched him as he sat back, stunned, and rubbed the back of his head. The coin around his neck glittered in the candlelight, throwing back spots of gold into Inoma's weary eyes. "Come here, Inoma."

She crawled into his lap, crystalline tears dripping down her face. "I'm scared," she said. "Help me."

And so he held her as the darkness lifted and the sun peeks over the horizon, trying to protect her from the fear and pain that will plague her forever.

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The wind mage arrived at dawn. He passed through the ancient hideout without ever being noticed, down the twisting stairs, avoiding everyone in the way. Finally he reached the bottom floor, down the shadowy hall, to the last door on the left. It was unlocked, which was very strange. Usually, the door was locked tight almost all day. He pulled it open and slipped inside.

The first odd thing he noticed was the guttering candle sitting in a copper dish. Usually there was complete darkness in this blank room. The second thing he noticed was the huge, hulking man sitting in the corner, a girl dressed in white asleep in his lap. His crimson eyes widened. "Hey!"

The man's head lifted. Dull amber eyes stared out at him from an impossibly dark face. "Vaati," he croaked. "She awoke earlier, I could do nothing." Gently he set her back on her bed and stood up, revealing his full seven-foot-plus height. "She had terrible dreams."

"Well, Your Highness," said Vaati mockingly, "you certainly did the right thing exhausting yourself."

"Shut up," responded the King wearily. "I couldn't help her."

Vaati sighed. "Sorry, King Dragmire. I know how badly that makes you feel."

"Oh stop," groaned Ganondorf Dragmire, rolling his neck. "The dreams are getting worse, Vaati, and the omens grow darker every time. What are we to do?"

"Well," said Vaati softly, "I found Vironna last night."

Ganondorf's eyes gleamed. "Really now?" he murmured.

Vaati nodded. "Yeah, I saw her. She is well, and very beautiful, and, well, she's engaged."

"Really now?" He stretched at length. "I should talk to her."

"I wouldn't, Ganon . . . ."

"Be quiet, Vaati." He brushed off the little sorcerer's attempts to dissuade him and made his way to the door. "Take care of Inoma, please. She will be upset when she wakes. I have things to attend to."

"Where are you going?" asked Vaati in a harsh whisper.

Ganondorf looked back at Vaati and smiled. "Starbucks."

He closed the door, leaving the purple-haired wind mage alone with the sleeping Seer.

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**Well, what do you think? Please leave reviews~ I'd love to know how I've done so far.  
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